


When Zeke met Jonesy

by Wherever_Girl



Series: ATF's Own Stories (Enter At Own Risk) [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bromance, Gen, but it's mostly just fluff, warning: contains self harm and suicidal themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25631653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wherever_Girl/pseuds/Wherever_Girl
Summary: Sometimes it's hard to be an ageless, immortal teenager, feeling it is impossible to make and keep friends if you know that one day you will have to say goodbye... and someday you will forget them. For Zeke, dealing with these thoughts on a constant basis made being alive unbearable.Turns out he just needed a friend to put those thoughts to rest and help him feel alive.That's when Jonesy came along.
Series: ATF's Own Stories (Enter At Own Risk) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858015
Kudos: 1





	1. When The World Is Gray

**Author's Note:**

> Zeke/ATF and Jonesy are original characters, copyright MINE!
> 
> Artwork is from my Deviantart page, She-Wolf91.
> 
> (Happy Birthday, Zeke!)

It was a cold, gray afternoon in the city, the streets alive with traffic and people all having places to be. The shops were open and crowded, street vendors calling out their advertisements, and groups of friends gossiping or sharing interesting stories or swapping jokes. Workers on break sat outside cafes or on benches to vent about their jobs with a relative or companion; once in a while the common thief would swipe a wallet from a distracted passerby, or a street gang would hang around outside a store or alleyway watching people walk by and talking smack.

The only quiet place was the park; just a large block with green grass, a few trees, and a nice little stream leading to a pond, a small bridge crossing over it to serve as a shortcut to the other side. Everything was bright and green, the water reflecting the blue sky, ducks and geese wading down the creek, pigeons roosting on the tree tops or statues if not gathering around a visitor throwing crumbs on the ground. Not many people came to the park these days, except to play with their dogs or get a breath of fresh air.

Most just came for peace and quiet, which was the reason Zeke was there.

Ezekiel Joshua Zechariah had been living in New York for the last five years… not that he bothered to keep count, as he never aged beyond thirteen. Sure, it was dangerous for a kid to live by himself in a big city, but when you’re immortal the thought of peril seldom crossed your mind.

 _New York really changed over the years…_ Zeke thought as he entered the park. He had walked through the Bowery; looking at all the coffeehouses, mini malls, corporate buildings and redesigned apartments, he could never help but to think back to the 1940’s, and the friends he had made back then and the places they hung out now.

He wondered what they would think if they saw their old ‘clubhouse’ was now a Verizon store, and Clancy’s pool hall was now a Starbucks. He wondered how they would react to the new police station, or how the modern ‘street gangs’ acted. _“Sheesh, if we had guys like that around, the cops would pin our gang as a bunch of goody two-shoeses,”_ he could imagine his old friend Muggs saying, as the gang he ran--- though a bit of a riffraff and troublemakers in need of ‘reform school’--- were not exactly known for high crimes. Maybe a con or two and a few wise-cracks, but nothing that would make front-page news!

Looking around now, the young teen figured there was hardly anyone who knew about the East Side Kids, save for a few elderly people who were kids themselves back then, but the events of the past several decades no doubt even had them forget. It is a shame when so much had happened in life that one could not recall something as humorous as Glimpy having to put on a dress and pretend to be Muggsy’s sister.

Even he was having trouble recalling some of their adventures. _The problem with being alive forever is that you keep making new memories, and the old ones fade away._ Zeke thought as he walked down the concrete path, not exactly paying attention to which direction he was going. _Worse, the friends in the old memories end up passing away, and then who will you remember anything with?_

He had new friends now, mainly in the Tooniverse… but somehow he did not feel ‘connected’ to many of them. They all had their own groups and other friends, and he felt more like he was just a ‘tag-along’. He never felt like he ‘clicked’ with anyone like he did with the East Side Kids.

The only one who came close was his surrogate sister, Luna “Wherever Girl” Southerland. When he first woke up with no clue to where he had come from, who his family was, and only remembering his name, powers, and birthday (ironically the same day as hers), she had invited him home. Her mother worked with the police, and after an extensive amount of research that proved he had no records, he was adopted and became her official ‘twin’ brother.

It was uncanny, and he recalled how surprised her family was to find a boy who looked just like her--- the only difference was he had black hair, and his eyes were blue (left) and black (right). As years went by, they even remained the same height, and he wondered if perhaps Luna was not ageless as well, or if he just had a slow growth rate like she did.

WG was the one who first took him to the Tooniverse, and gave him a special amulet that she had infused with her portal-making abilities. All he needed now was a ‘pen-name’ he could go by, and he had chosen Anti-Twilight Forever, or ATF for short. He felt embarrassed about it now, knowing that years from now that book series would become just another fad and people would just make fun of the ‘ongoing war’ about how they either loved it or despised it.

 _Maybe I should change my name… can I do that?_ Zeke thought. It would be difficult and confusing of course, but he did not exactly want to go by a name that linked him to a hyped-up saga from umpteen years ago.

His friends would no doubt have to get used to it… but then again, he hardly hung out with them. Hell, the reason he met most of them in the first place was because of Luna; she had met Fanatic, Tracker, Zane, and so many others before him, and they had all gone through their share of adventures in the cartoon world before he started hanging out with them. After that, he and Luna seemed to share everything--- friends, family, laptop, bathroom… basically everything except apartments and underwear.

But unlike him, Luna was getting older. She and Zane were dating now. She and Fanatic were working as security guards. Tracker was working at a pizzeria and hardly called anymore. Zane was a Time Lord and was always travelling the multiverses. His sister and friends all had lives that were changing.

Someday… their lives would come to an end. Then he would have to say goodbye, and have more memories he would have to hang on to for as long as possible.

 _I should stop drinking._ Zeke thought. Not to say he was a raging alcoholic, always drinking only on New Year’s Eve or St. Patrick’s Day or whenever he was invited to an open bar… but most of his binging came when he was depressed. And of course, getting drunk and dying from alcohol poisoning did not help his memory. But, he knew that the moment he got home, he would open that fridge and crack open a cold one. _Depressed, having no direction with my life, drinking… geez, I feel like Vincent Brooks._

He crossed over the bridge, pausing for a bit to look at his reflection in the rippling water. He was wearing a silver beanie with a white kitty symbol on it, a gray shirt with a red arrow-pierced heart outline on the front, and a pair of khaki jeans with some plain white sneakers. Normally, he would wear more colorful attire, but today he felt like wearing something a little drab in tint.

Today… everything just felt lacking in color. Even the park, which was vibrant with its greens and browns and blues, felt gray to him as if he had stepped into an old black-and-white movie. The world always looked less bright when he was depressed.

Of course, he knew it would not last… eventually, everything would fade to black, if only for a little while.

Zeke continued on his way, heading to the exit, his mind wandering into a myriad of ideas of how he could get a mental break from his depression. _I could walk into traffic… no, no I don’t want to make anyone late for work. Maybe walk into a construction site--- agh, no, I might cost someone their job. I could throw myself into the alligator pit at the zoo… no, wait, I might make the gators sick. *sigh* Maybe I’ll just intervene on a gang war and take a few shots… maybe I’ll shield someone from death, it’s the only thing I’m good for…_

“Hello,”

Zeke looked up, seeing someone sitting up on the stone wall. They appeared to be a college student, with a thin frame and light orange-brown hair and green eyes. He wore a green shirt with a black vest, a pair of plain jeans, and a navy-blue fedora. _Was he there before?_ The young teen thought. Then again, he was so lost in his glum mentality he probably would have missed a cow if it were up there.

“Hi,’ Zeke answered with a nod, walking on.

“Why are you walking alone?” The young man asked. His tone was kind and casual, his voice smooth but having a bit of a squeak to it, like a combination of Shaggy Rogers and Tamaki Suoh.

 _Creeper-alert._ Zeke commented in his head, looking up at the man. “I’m old enough to walk by myself,” he answered, continuing his way.

The man walked along the top of the wall, keeping by his side. “It’s not very wise for young teens to walk alone in a big city like this, unless your home is nearby.”

“It’s also not wise for a grown man to make conversation with a kid who does not know them, unless you’re some sort of pedophile--- then I’d have to kill you.”

“Tch. Don’t compare me to those lustful criminals. How do you know I am not autistic and see nothing weird about a man talking to a kid? Or I may be an adult who feels more comfortable speaking with someone younger than I am more than adults, mainly due to an upbringing that caused me to feel awkward around older people. You could even argue I have a rare condition where I look older than I really am!”

Zeke paused, looking up at him and arching an eyebrow. “Then which is it? Autism, social anxiety, or medical condition?”

The young man hopped down, standing right beside him now. “None of the above. I just want to make a new friend… and you look like you could use one,”

The immortal teen scoffed. “Sounds more like you’re a creeper. And I have friends, just FYI.”

“If I were a creeper, I would be stalking you from a distance. Your living room looks great from the backyard, by the way.”

Zeke chuckled. _Looks like I’m getting kidnapped today. Oh well, nothing a portal wouldn’t fix._ He thought, keeping his hands in his pockets where his amulet was, while memorizing the details of the man’s face in case he would have to report to the police later. It was not the first time someone tried to lure him away and sell him in an underground market if not use him for perverted games--- not that they were at all successful, as the moment they tried to drug him, ‘Fluffy’ would be impaling them.

“My name is Jonesy, by the way. Jonesy Micah Silver.”

“Ha, my sister made up a character named ‘Jonesy Silver’ for a _Treasure Planet_ fanfic once.” Zeke looked at him, cocking his head. “You kind of look like him, too.”

“That’s a pretty scary coincidence.”

“Heh, not in the Tooniverse. We’ve seen plenty of characters that look alike. Sometimes we end up making original characters that look or share similarities to another. We call it ‘subliminal writing’, depending on the situation.”

“Tooniverse, huh?”

“The cartoon world. I go there all the time.” Zeke walked backwards ahead of him. Perhaps if he rambled on, this person would think he was some sort of nut and leave him alone. “My name is Zeke--- I once worked on a series where Shaggy Rogers, Puggsy and Flip Chan got into a series of misadventures, became a security guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, did a parody of the movie _Mirror, Mirror_ with Kairi in the lead role, and wrote many a fluff fic. Also I’m psychic, immortal, ageless, can open portals, and I’m bisexual.”

Jonesy rubbed his chin. “Aren’t you a little young to be determining your sexuality? You’re only 13.”

“I’ve been thirteen for basically 80 years.”

“When were you born?”

“I was born on July 31st, but I have no idea what year. I was sent back in time by Weeping Angels to the year 1935; hung out with a gang called the East Side Kids for some time, was put into a coma throughout the 1950’s, saw what Woodstock was like _without_ getting high (it was still trippy), I forget what all happened in the 70’s but I know I looked terrible in a leisure suit, got drunk and forgot most of the 80’s, spent most of the 90’s watching television, and eventually returned to my original time-line by the early 2000’s. …Would you believe that no matter how many times I’ve been through school, I still don’t know how to do algebra?”

Jonesy blinked, letting out a breath. “Wow. What a life.”

“Okay, your turn. What’s your story?”

The young man shrugged. “I can’t say. I think it’s pretty average… I’m 20, no family, I like to go fishing, read, travel here and there, do odd jobs; I’m asexual, not really looking for a relationship, love animals… oh and I’m mastered in swordplay and used to work as a nanny for a high class family.”

 _He must be trying to bullshit me back. Weak ammo, though. At least put some imagination into it!_ Zeke thought, wondering if the man was on to his game. Difference is everything he had told the stranger was true; the guy obviously didn’t believe him and was making up his own far-fetched story, only less wacky.

“Well, this was an interesting conversation, but I should get home. I have a snake to feed,” Zeke replied, standing at the bus-stop.

“Hey,” Jonesy walked over to him, kneeling down so they were at eye-level. “Let’s hang out sometime, and actually talk like real people. I’m sorry for creeping you out… I really do want to be friends.”

Zeke looked out of the corner of his eye; a woman was watching them, giving Jonesy a suspicious look. He looked at the stranger again; his eyes gave off a gentle warmth, and his expression was sincere in kindness.

But he had been deceived before. He recalled the first time someone came off as friendly, just wanting to hang out… then the next thing he knew, he was getting pinned on the bed with his pants down, screaming for help. Had Luna not come home and had her machete on-hand, he would have been scarred worse than he was now.

Jonesy reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled receipt (looked like it came from a McDonald’s), and a pen. “Just think about it, okay?” He said, handing him a phone-number. “Not every oddball stranger is a bad guy. Some people are just weird.”

“Yeah, well… until I know which side of the ‘weird’ spectrum you’re on… see ya.” Zeke muttered, climbing on the bus before Jonesy could say another word.

He stood up, looking out the window and watching Jonesy wave to him… before being confronted by the woman. The teen let out a sigh, his head hanging low.

A part of him wanted to meet up with Jonesy, something inside assuring him he was not some psycho out to harm naïve minors. But his doubt and paranoia were overbearing. _He’s a whack-job just playing nice. This is reality! There’s more psychopaths here than in Gotham City! Where do you think writers get ideas for villains?!_ He criticized himself, letting out a heavy sigh. _…Even if he is innocent, what would be the point of making a new friend, especially in reality? People in reality die quicker or drift apart… the friendship would be short-lived._

He looked around, making sure no one was watching. The bus was crowded, but everyone was either looking out the window, spacing off, or staring at their phones. The people behind and in front of him looked worn out, as if they had just gotten off work, and the person in the seat across the aisle was dosing off; the person next to him was talking on their cellphone, not paying him any attention.

Slipping his hand into his pocket and gripping the amulet, he concentrated and opened a portal beneath his feet, slipping off his seat and dropping through--- the last thing he saw was the man on the cellphone doing a double-take before it shut.


	2. Just To Escape...

Zeke wasn’t lying when he said he had to feed his pet snake. In fact, all his pets needed fed around the afternoon.

Ryojii, his pet snake, was curled up in his sandbox beneath the heating lamp, warming his black-and-silver scales. He had grown a bit since Zeke first took him in, the reptile now a good three feet in length. He was a strange kind of snake, as it was hard to place his exact breed--- he had venom that killed within a second, though his fangs were retractable. He also would not eat meat--- except cheeseburgers--- and instead preferred chopped fruits and vegetables, only really ‘hunting’ when there was an insect in the house. This was a relief, as Zeke would not want him to harm his other pets.

He stroked the snake’s head, and Ryojii looked up at him, letting out a yawn before slithering over to his food-dish, scooping up some diced pineapple and cherries with his lower jaw and swallowing. In a way, Ryojii acted more like a cat than a snake--- taking long naps, eating, and once in a while curling up around Zeke.

There came barking, and in flew a charcoal-colored Pomeranian with little dragon wings. “Hey, Rickshaw, you hungry too?” Zeke asked, petting the flying pooch before pouring him some kibble.

Rickshaw “Ricky Junior” MacFluffin was an interesting pet. He was actually one of the many offspring born of Luna’s old pet dog, Ricky, and her boyfriend’s bearded-dragon, Pocca. Due to circumstances involving a werewolf-bite and magic potion, Ricky managed to grow into a full-wolf while Pocca became a dragon… and by cartoon-physics the two ended up mating and producing ‘Dragoranians’. Rickshaw was the runt of the litter and looked the most like his father… minus the dragon wings.

Even though Ricky and Pocca had passed on some time ago, their offspring lived on. Being ‘toon-born’ gave them the benefit of living on. Rickshaw took after his father--- chasing bikes and motorcycles, snapping at strangers until it was confirmed they were no threat, and loyal enough to a point where he could be walked without a leash, even memorizing the routes they would take on their walks when Zeke was gone for a while. He was a good guard-dog when Zeke was away. The only difficulty came with having to be housebroken--- that is, NOT setting something on fire with his flaming-breath.

There came a tiny “mew!” as a gray kitten with dark-gray stripes came dawdling over, hopping up onto the counter and pawing for her master’s attention. “Yes, Captain Sprinkles, I have your food ready too,” Zeke said with a soft chuckle, handing her a small bowl of cat food.

At first glance, Captain Sprinkles would be considered the only ‘normal’ pet in the apartment… and that would be true, except she was not born like other cats. She was actually a ‘clone’ created from the DNA of Luna’s cat, TC, and Fanatic’s cat, Tiger--- the two felines had been wed but, considering both had been fixed, were unable to reproduce… so with the help of a machine and abandoning all laws of physics, Captain Sprinkles was created as their child. However, it was hard to decide which owner she would live with, so she was given to Zeke as a mutual agreement.

Once his animals were well-fed, Zeke went into his bedroom and changed into a pair of pajamas; it was only 6 o’clock in the afternoon, but he didn’t feel like going out anywhere. He was not hungry, his appetite dormant at the moment. He sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels before stopping on the VH1 network; he wasn’t really in the mood to watch anything, he just wanted a bit of background noise. He always hated a quiet house.

After a few minutes, his pets joined him on the sofa: Ryojii wrapped around his waist, Captain Sprinkles hopped on the back and snuggled against his shoulder, and Rickshaw nuzzled his head underneath his owner’s hand and curled up at his flank.

Zeke smiled, enjoying the comfort his animals gave, knowing they could sense his depression. Of course, it only made him wonder how long it would last. Sure, Rickshaw and Captain Sprinkles were toon-born, but they still had traces of ‘reality DNA’ that rendered them somewhat mortal; it could be a few centuries, or even decades, before they would grow old. As for Ryojii, he might be able to live forever, but he could not be sure. Even in this world, where cartoons are said to never die, sometimes characters still had to face the matter of death. (Hell, the anime universe had a high record of it!)

Sure, there was always the fact that even if a toon did die, they would still be able to come back… but what no one knew was that cartoons did have a tendency to perish for good. Not by DIP—as it was confirmed that the substance could destroy a toon, but they could still return. In order to be gone for good, a toon would have to give up their life-force willingly. It often happened to cartoons who were long forgotten, and felt they no longer at a purpose; sometimes it happened to cartoons who had yet to be given a role and had been waiting for many decades, until they had run out of patience and could not find the drive to go on.

Once they gave up their life-force… that was it. There was no coming back.

It was a common instinct every animated character had. Zeke never met anyone who had given up their life force, but had heard stories from others, and it saddened him. He had died a number of times, and in a few of those cases when his depression was unbearable, he had tried to give up his life-force… but did not know how. Was it only for toons? He couldn’t even tell if he were a cartoon or not. When someone from Reality stayed in the cartoon world for a matter of time, they gained a toon-form. He gained his instantly, whereas Luna said it took three days for her to change.

Perhaps he was a combination of both, like Zane. His mother came from the real-world and his father was a cartoon, thereby making him a ‘cartoonbrid’ (cartoon hybrid).

It was complicated, but he knew that his sister, her boyfriend, and their friends had survived or revived from deadly situations, as if the ‘toon essence’ within them kept them from perishing; perhaps they would not die unless they died in real life. Regardless, he just knew that he had tried time and again to die for good, but always ‘woke up’.

He stood up, untangling himself from Ryojii and walking over, making sure the doors and windows were locked. “Bed time,” he told his animals, and they went over to their sleeping areas: Ryojii in his sandbox, Captain Sprinkles on her little cat bed, and Rickshaw on his pillow up on the high shelf by the door. Their owner left the TV on for them, before walking through a portal.

Sleep was not going to come easily for Zeke, so he decided to do the alternative.

Stepping out of the portal, he stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out. He had entered a different time-zone, finding it was already dark out and the night sky littered with stars, the moon shining brightly.

It was a beautiful night, calm and cool. The town below was quiet, the lights that shone in the dark looking dazzling, the only source of light for miles as there were highways that stretched out for hundreds of miles, giving the view an atmosphere of stillness and serenity.

But Zeke could not enjoy it.

He didn’t exactly know what town it was, he just opened a portal to a cliff side. It did not matter, so long as he was a good distance from it, and no one would find his body and panic. It was a bit awkward when a forensics team is called in, only to see that the body is already healing up and scaring the piss out of the guy taking pictures. Once, he had been dead so long that he woke up in an autopsy lab, scaring the medical examiner half-to-death, especially since they had just cut him open!

No… he wanted to die in peace, and wake up without a commotion.

His depression was really setting in tonight… he just wanted to jump—to die, even if it only lasted a few seconds. It was a bad habit of his, to throw himself in harm’s way when his negative emotions were getting the better of him.

Tonight they were just too overbearing… always thinking about saying goodbye to loved ones, the thought of never seeing them again… worse, forgetting them completely…

He had no memory of his past… no idea who his parents were, or where he had lived, if he had other friends…

It was too painful, and he wanted to stop thinking about it…

So he jumped.

…

“ZEKE!”

…

What he didn’t expect was for someone to jump with him--- no, GRAB him as if to prevent his fall! Before he could angle his body into a head-first position, a pair of hands were grabbing him beneath the arms!

And before he knew it, Zeke--- somehow--- was flying! The town below him got smaller as he was pulled upward into the air, the stars passing by at such speed that he could barely see them! He was soon being placed back upon level ground.

He looked up at the source… and nearly had a panic attack.

“J-Jonesy?!”

The stranger from earlier hovered before him… his hat was gone, and his vest slightly ripped in the back… but the thing Zeke noticed immediately was that there was a halo glowing above his head and a massive pair of wings stuck out from his back!

Zeke’s jaw was agape as he stared, completely dumbfounded. Jonesy had just been in Reality not too long ago… and all of a sudden he was here, in the Tooniverse, showing up at the exact moment… and… and… _anditturnsoutheisanangelwhatintheworld!?_

The angel looked at him, looking very cross. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Jonesy scolded.

*Thud!*

Zeke blacked out in an instant.

Jonesy blinked. “…oops.”


	3. The Pact

When Zeke came to, he found himself in a hotel room. _Okay, not good. I passed out in front of a stranger, and I’m waking up in a motel._ He thought, and sat up, giving himself an examination. _Lets see, I don’t feel light-headed or sick, and nothing feels fondled… oh snap…_

A horrible thought came to mind. Had he turned into Fluffy?

‘Fluffy’ was his dark-ego. Every cartoonbrid had an Ego of sorts, which served as a cartoon persona for them, a ‘toonsona’ as Fanatic put it: when a cartoonbrid faces something that impacts them which enough magnitude to ‘awake’ their inner-toon, they gain the ability to become a new identity, thus being their alter-ego. Zane gained his ego, Vincent Maxamillion Elric (aptly dubbed The Black Alchemist), after conquering his dark side; in a vision, he knew that one day Luna would awaken to her own as well.

But if one were triggered in a negative way… well, that’s how a dark-ego was formed.

Egos could be transformed into at will, or else be ‘triggered’. For Zeke… Fluffy was triggered by things that riled him up--- sexual assault, child/animal abuse, pedophilia, human trafficking, or if someone threatened to do something awful to someone he loved. Often, Fluffy worked as a ‘backup security system’, as if Zeke were knocked unconscious or drugged, Fluffy would immediately break through his subconscious and take control.

As Fluffy he was invincible but extremely deadly… able to move quickly and kill with long sharp claws, and unstoppable by every kind of weapon. But he could not tell friend from foe… the only ones he would spare were children below the age of 18, animals, and Luna. The only way he could be changed back was if someone he trusted hugged him, thus why he called himself ‘Fluffy’--- to serve as a reminder of how to change himself back, otherwise he would have to lie down somewhere and sleep.

He looked himself over; there were no bloodstains on his hands or clothes, meaning that he had not been in danger.

There came the sound of running water, and Jonesy walked out of the bathroom. “Oh good, you’re awake.” He said; he was wearing his vest and hat again, his wings and halo well hidden. “I’m drawing you a bath, and got you some fresh clothes--- they might be a little big, but they’re comfortable. Your pajamas got dirty when you fell on the ground… plus, you smell like you haven’t bathed properly for the last couple of days,”

“I-I smell fine! And I want answers!” Zeke sputtered, getting up from the bed. “Who are you?! Are you really an angel?! H-How could you travel between both the toon world and real world?! Why are you following me?!”

Jonesy pointed to the bathroom. “Bath first, then I’ll explain everything.”

“But---!”

“Bath!”

Zeke groaned. He wasn’t going to put up with this! He reached into his pajama shirt for his amulet… only to find it was gone! “Where…?” he gasped to himself.

“Looking for this?” Jonesy held up the amulet, spinning it on his finger before flipping it into his palm. “Sorry, bud, I can’t have you running off before we can talk properly.”

“Y-You creep!”

Jonesy waved him forth. “Now into the tub with you. Go, go.”

The teen sneered, but walked into the bathroom. Good heavens, the tub was even full of bubbles and had a rubber ducky in it! Sweet-smelling soap and shampoo also sat at the edge, ready to be used, along with a fluffy pink loofa! _God help me,_ Zeke thought, not knowing what else to think.

He thought about just jumping in the tub and dousing himself, but upon slipping in he felt himself relax. It had been a while since he took a nice bath, the bubbles lavender-scented and the water warm and soothing. He sighed, deciding to take at least a few minutes to unwind.

Once his body was scrubbed and his hair washed (and the rubber ducky was squeaked just for squeak’s sake), he climbed out of the tub and changed into the dry clothes, consisting of a large colorful T-shirt, blue pants, and white red-toed socks. Jonesy was right--- they were a bit loose on him, but very comfortable.

Stepping out while drying his hair, he saw that Jonesy had even called for pizza. Calzones, to be specific. “I hope you like Pizzones,” the angel told him, opening the boxes. “I got Meat Lovers, Supreme, and… wait, why is this one stuffed with pineapple? _Who_ stuffs a calzone with _pineapples?!_ I specifically said ‘pepperoni’!” He closed the box, crossing his arms. “This is why I prefer to dine-in, hmph!”

Zeke sat down, picking the Supreme calzone. “Okay, now tell me everything.” He told his host.

“Well, to put it bluntly, I’m your guardian angel. (hold on)” Jonesy answered, picking up the pineapple calzone and walking over to the window; he opened it and threw out the box. “Here, homeless guy! Have something to eat!” He leaned back to shut the window--- but the calzone ended up flying back into his hands. “…huh, even the homeless have standards.”

“Guardian angel?” Zeke gave him a look. This had to be some sort of trick, recalling tales of how wicked fiends would portray themselves as friendly spirits in order to fool someone. He recalled something he had read before, to see if what Jonesy was saying was to be trusted. “Then you know Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus Christ--- the Son and Flesh of God; the Way, the Truth, and the Life; who died on the cross for our sins, and all who believe in Him will not perish but have everlasting life. Yes.” Jonesy answered. “Of course, I should tell you that I am a _cartoon_ angel--- real angels do a better job at keeping discrete.”

“So you were drawn?”

“Once upon a time, yes. I was supposed to have a role… but something happened, and before you know it I have a halo and wings.”

Zeke took another bite from his calzone. Alright, cartoon angels were not exactly uncommon in the Tooniverse. “But, if you’re from here, how did you get to Reality, and why weren’t you in cartoon form?”

“I went through a portal,” As if to prove his point, Jonesy held up his palm, showing a swirling ball of white light. “Well, not like yours, but it helps me get from point A to point B in a jiffy.” He waved his hand and the light flashed, and suddenly he was gone…

*knock knock knock*

Zeke walked over and opened the door, letting him back into the room. “Note to self: make sure to take card-key before exiting the hotel room,” the angel muttered to himself as he walked back in. “Anyway! When a toon goes through a portal, they change into a live-action form. …Honestly, I wonder why they keep hiring actors and using CGI to make those live-action remakes.”

“Wait, you know about my portals?? Have you been stalking me?” Zeke sputtered, approaching him.

Jonesy rolled his eyes. “If you call ‘reading your Fakebook profile’ stalking… then in that case, _everyone_ on social media is a stalker. I’ve also read your fan-fics, so yeah I believe all that you told me earlier.”

“But… I’m confused. How do you know who I am?”

“As your guardian angel, I am drawn to you. It took me a while to find you--- and believe me, it wasn’t easy, I had to travel through maybe 15 other worlds because you kept hopping from one place to the next! Then…” His expression turned solemn. “I heard your heart crying out in pain. It was like a special radar activated in my head--- suddenly I could zero-in on your location. When I found you in Reality… honestly, you looked so disheartened I had no idea how to approach you, and ended up being quite upfront.”

Zeke covered his chest. “My heart…?”

“It’s kind of a special sense I have. I can tell you are hurting and… well, I want to make you feel better.” Jonesy held out his hand. “Will you let me do that?”

Zeke looked at his hand, before sitting down next to him on the bed. “This is so weird… even for this world. I have so many questions!” he said with an exasperated sigh. “Why did you find me now?”

Jonesy shook his head. “Like I said, I have a special sense, and I can sense you really need me…”

“Need you?!” Zeke shot him a glare. “From all I’ve been through, you think I _need_ you?! I’ve had to deal with things on my own for so long… why should things be different now?!”

“Zeke---“

“No!” Zeke gripped his head. “I can’t do this! You show up out of the blue, saying you want to be friends, but… what would be the frickin’ point?! Every person I meet just ends up leaving me, why would a cartoon guardian angel be any different? I keep having to say goodbye to everyone, and I can’t deal with it anymore! I… I’m going to be killing myself on a daily basis because someone is trying to force their way into my life!”

The young man gave him a look, before standing up. He took off his vest and hat, his halo shining bright as his wings spread out, a bright light shining around him. Zeke gasped, backing up on the bed and bracing himself, feeling as if he greatly pissed off the angel. He covered his face with his arms, trembling. Granted, it was not the first time he ticked off someone powerful and had gotten critically injured if not killed, but in this moment he felt like he was in serious trouble. Not only that, but he was completely out of line--- someone was trying to show him kindness, and he flew off the handle.

A weight descended on the bed as Jonesy crawled back on to it. “Ezekiel,” he spoke softly, grabbing his hands and holding them in his own. His touch was warm and gentle. “You do not need to be afraid. I know you do not want to believe me because you have been hurt so much, and you have lost so many friends. But please believe me when I say I am not going anywhere--- I cannot die because I already have, and I will be around whenever you need me. And I want to protect you… there is so much pain in your heart, and your head is so full of dark thoughts that you end up killing yourself time and again desperate to find a moment’s peace. I don’t want you to go through that anymore…”

The angel leaned forth, wrapping his arms around the teen; Zeke’s eyes widened, the hug feeling so warm, so comforting, so… secure. Tears were starting to fill in his eyes, and he shut them tight.

“Let me help you. I want to help you feel better. I want to keep you safe from those horrible thoughts. I want to help you overcome your fear of being attached to others,” Jonesy rubbed his back, keeping his chin rested on top of his head. “Memories will come and go… but your heart will always remember, even if your mind does not. Don’t let your sorrow keep you from making more,”

They pulled out the hug for a moment, as the angel looked into his eyes.

“I am going to be around to look after you.”

Zeke lay on the bed tears running down his face as he looked at Jonesy… the young man who had declared himself his guardian angel and vowed to protect him. _But… I’m immortal. What would be the point?_ The teen wondered, and figured this was all a coma-dream from falling on his head. He had been harming and killing himself and still waking to another day… so why was some cartoon angel promising to take care of him now?

 _This is all just a dream… it can’t really be happening._ Zeke thought; he had comforting dreams like this before--- often about seeing old friends again, or even what Heaven was like, only to wake up and find it was all just a work of his imagination during his slumber.

“I know, it’s hard to believe.” Jonesy said, lying beside him. “But, regardless of your immunities, I want to keep you safe from the things that are more difficult to endure. You’re never alone, Ezekiel—I want to remind you of that. I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself,”

Zeke sniffled, trembling a bit. “Where were you before?!” he had to demand. “W-When I was turning into Fluffy and losing control… or when- when that creep tried to… tried to…!” he felt his eyes turning violet at the memory…

Jonesy stretched a wing over him, as if to provide warmth to his shivers; the gesture helped the teen calm down as his eyes returned to a normal color. “You didn’t need me then. Someone was already there to help you… but you know your sister and your friends will not be around forever. That’s when I decided, ‘There is no way I’m gonna let this kid be alone’. I’m here for you Zeke… if you want me around.”

It was too much.

The teen began to sob. From his tone, his warmth, and his gaze, Zeke felt in his heart the angel’s words were sincere. “I do…” he whispered. “I… I need a friend I never have to say goodbye to!”

Jonesy shushed him, cupping his hands on his face and wiping away his tears. “Then I’ll be your _best friend_. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there. Just remember you are never alone,”

Zeke placed his hand over one of Jonesy’s, his heart swelling with warm feelings that he had not felt in a long time, and he smiled at his guardian angel. “Okay…”

“Oh, and keep in mind… Jesus loves you, too. With Him, you are never alone, even if you feel like it.”

“Ha ha, I know… *sniffle* I know… I just… I…”

Jonesy wrapped his arms around him. “A lot of people who believe in Him forget that, too. But that’s when He sends them a reminder,” he squeezed him gently, rubbing his head. “And I want to be one of those reminders… even if I’m just a cartoon angel, I’ll be your guardian angel.”

“And best friend,” Zeke added, hugging him back, listening to his heartbeat. “I’m glad I met you… I still wish you were here sooner…”

The angel rubbed his back, resting his head against the immortal’s. “I’m here now, Zeke. I’m here now.”


	4. Late Night Comfort

Gasping for breath, drenched in a cold sweat, Zeke woke up from his nightmare. His face was wet with tears, as the subconscious vision was twisted and dark--- nothing but violence, bloodshed and death all around as he ran through the streets, the skies red and his voice of panic echoing the streets; it was not until he had reached a window that he saw his reflection, seeing his violet eyes and bloodstained hands…

That’s when he managed to break free of the nightmare… while hoping it was _only_ a nightmare, and that he was not having one of his psychic visions in his sleep again.

Too shaken to resume his slumber, the immortal teen got out of bed. Captain Sprinkles was asleep in her cat bed nearby, purring in her sleep, having pleasant little mew-mew dreams; it warmed Zeke’s heart, and were his nerves not shot from a horrid nightmare, candy would no doubt pop out of his head like what always happened.

He walked to the kitchen, looking in the fridge to find a snack to calm his nerves; he did not see much, and settled for a glass of cold water. He looked out the window, seeing the sky was still dark and filled with stars, morning still a long way away. He considered television, but upon going into the living room found that Rickshaw was asleep with the remote underneath his fluff, no doubt having been binge-watching _Star VS. The Forces of Evil_ all night. To try and take the remote from him would result in the loss of a hand, Zeke knew.

Sighing, the teen stepped out onto the balcony, taking in some fresh air.

“You’re awake pretty early,” came a voice, and he looked over to see his guardian angel walking out beside him; he looked at a clock on the wall. “Like, _eight hours_ early.”

“I had a bad dream… and I’m hoping it’s just that.” Zeke answered, his tone glum.

Jonesy nodded his head, motioning him back inside. They walked over to a corner, and the young man pulled him into a hug, slipping downward on the floor until the teen was rested on his lap; his halo glowed above, one of his wings wrapping around the small frame as he cradled him gently. There came a soft ‘meow’, as Captain Sprinkles had wandered out of her bed to see what was going on.

Zeke closed his eyes, curling up against Jonesy. It had been a few years since he met the angel, and their friendship had yet to grow stale. They went fishing together, watched movies, played videogames, and would take trips once in a while; when they weren’t hanging out, Jonesy was keeping an eye on the apartment, and Zeke would come home to either find dinner on the table or the angel playing with the pets.

In times like these, in the teen’s opinion, Jonesy would feel more like a caretaker than a best friend. Any time Zeke was in a crisis, the angel would appear. When he was depressed or in need of advice, his friend was there to talk to, often going as far as to make them each a milkshake or cup of hot cocoa (depending on the weather) as they conversed.

When Zeke felt like going out drinking, Jonesy would go with, if only to make sure no one tried to do something terrible to the teen, and then give him a lecture the next day while the hangover passed. He wasn’t really the ‘disciplinarian’ type, but the teen could still tell the angel wanted him to be more careful with his life, and be less reckless with his immortality.

When the teen was so deep in despair that the thought of drinking did not seem to distract him, he would resort to self harm… and that’s when Jonesy would appear, pulling him into a warm embrace and soothing him with comforting words; when Zeke’s attitude would cause him to refuse the tender care, the angel would rebuke him until the tears came loose and the immortal would finally accept his consolation.

But it was the quiet moments like this that made Zeke appreciate the angel’s company. He always wanted someone to be around to just hold him, let him know things would be okay--- not with words, but actions. Listening to Jonesy’s heartbeat while his friend hugged him tight made him feel like a little kid in their parent’s arms… and considering he could not recall having a mother or father, and how the parents he shared with Luna had grown distant, he admitted in his heart that he longed for this sort of feeling every night.

“Want to talk about your dream?” Jonesy asked him, once the teen felt calm.

“I was in the streets… everyone was dead, I think I had changed into Fluffy because there was blood on my hands… but that’s all,” Zeke answered, gripping his shirt. “I’m… I’m really scared. I know I need to overcome my trauma,”

“I’m here to help… it’s been a couple years since you last turned, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

“Hear anything from your sister, lately?”

“Yeah… she invited me to help out on the security team at the House of Mouse. It started out with just her and Fanatic, but since they’ve been calling in some recruits lately, they felt they need a little more on the force,” He kept his head rested against the angel’s chest, spacing out a bit. “I told her I would think about it, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, just… we haven’t hung out in a long time. After she met FF2, Tracker and Fanatic, it felt like she had her own life. I want to be part of it, yet in the end I get depressed; everyone grows older or eventually passes away, but not me. I’m afraid of getting attached, forgetting fond memories, and… just having to say goodbye…” He looked up at Jonesy, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m not the only one who feels like this… am I?”

The angel gave Zeke a soft look, letting out a sigh. “Believe me, you will never be alone on that. I have seen a lot of cartoons suffer severe depression because they do not have fans anymore or cannot remember some of their adventures. Immortal or not, everyone has that fear--- as people grow, they tend to forget certain memories, and have to say goodbye to friends. That is why many of them are afraid of growing old or meeting new people, because they do not want to keep forgetting, and they do not want to keep saying goodbye to anyone or anything.” He squeezed him tight. “But, everything has its time--- even an immortal like you… yet, I do not want you to crave your ending while your story is still being written. People who rush to the ending… they end up missing out on some important parts of their story.”

Captain Sprinkles crawled onto Zeke’s lap, curling up and purring; the angel reached down and stroked her fur, his feathered wing keeping wrapped around the teen’s shoulders like a soft blanket. Jonesy, in plenty of ways, felt quite like a security blanket. “I never really gave much thought about that…” his young friend murmured.

“You should enjoy the time you have with others, Ezekiel… even if it does not last long, even if you end up forgetting, but that does not mean those around you will not cherish it. We all share memories, and we all have to say goodbye at some point, but you need to focus on the _now_ rather than the _later._ You will have good times, you will have struggles; you will laugh, you will cry; you will feel great, you will feel bitter. That is life. You were meant to have more than one emotion--- that is what it means to feel. That is what it means to be alive. Do not be troubled by your visions, because they are not set in stone. What matters is what you do with your life, and the impression you leave on others.”

Captain Sprinkles purred softly in her sleep, while Zeke shifted upward, nuzzling against Jonesy’s collarbone. “You’re right… heh, and I guess my sister could use some help. She lets me borrow her laptop sometimes, and being part of one of her stories sounds like a good change of pace.” He looked at his guardian angel. “Thank you, Jonesy.”

Jonesy smiled, rubbing his back while giving him a kiss on the forehead. “You’re welcome. Now then, back to bed. Sleeping in a corner is bad for the back.”

Zeke wrapped his arms around his friend’s thin abdomen, hugging him tight. “Can I sleep in your bed? Please?”

The angel nodded, sliding his arms underneath the teen’s legs and around his shoulders, hoisting him (as well as Captain Sprinkles) up as if he were holding nothing. He carried his friend into his bedroom, setting him (and the kitty) on the bed before crawling onto the empty side. Captain Sprinkles walked off Zeke’s lap and curled up at the end of the bed, while her owner snuggled up against his guardian angel, who spread one of his wings over his small frame once more as if it were a soft, feathery shield. Jonesy then took off his hat, his halo glowing in the dark as if it were a night-light. He hummed a gentle tune as he pet his friend’s head, helping lull him to sleep.

Zeke drifted off, and no nightmares invaded his dreams.


	5. The World Is Full of Color

Jonesy did not sleep. As an angel, he never needed to.

…of course, by the laws of cartoon logic, he did have to use the restroom every so often.

But he did tend to lie down and think. Often, he concentrated on where Zeke was, honing his skills in order to make sure his charge was okay. It was early morning, and he could sense the teen was on the couch, having crashed from a sugar-high whilst trying to watch all the _Lord of the Rings_ and _The Hobbit_ movies--- poor kid didn’t make it past _The Two Towers_ before fatigue claimed him.

When he knew Zeke was alright, Jonesy would let his mind wander. He knew the teen could not recall his past…

Sadly, neither could he.

But he knew that they had known each other before. For some reason, he felt the need to protect him.

Somehow, he believed Zeke was the reason he had died…

A small weight descended on his stomach, working its way up his chest… and on his face, covering it with fluff. “Can I help you, Captain Sprinkles?” he muffled.

“Mew,” the small cat replied.

Jonesy reached and picked her up, setting her beside him as he sat up. “Alright, lets get some breakfast.”

Walking across the living room, he looked over at the teen on the couch--- curled up with a pillow and blanket the angel had placed with him after he had fallen asleep, hugging a bag of potato chips as if it were a teddy bear, an empty grape soda can loosely in his grip hanging over the edge. On his back, Rickshaw was curled up; Ryojii was coiled up in his nice warm tank (as it was hazardous AND expensive to have a heat-lamp on 24-7).

And up on the ceiling, Jeffrey the Xenomorph slumbered. The alien was a new ‘addition’ to the small apartment after a face-hugger incident one Halloween. Zeke considered the extraterrestrial his ‘son’, but Jeffrey acted more like a pet than a child. He wore a shirt and baggy pants, and a large, Bob Marley styled knit cap over his enormous head, black hair sticking out. The angel was thankful that, unlike the rest of his species, Jeffrey took more after Zeke--- friendly, not too vicious, and THANK GOD had no interest in repopulating!

…of course, it took quite a bit of house-breaking to train him not to spit acid everywhere.

Jeffrey woke up, letting out a yawn--- his extra mouth sticking out and doing the same--- as he crawled off the ceiling and walked over to the kitchen. “Krrrl?” he twittered, cocking his head.

“Yes, Jeffrey, I’ll make pancakes like I promised.”

Jeffrey panted, his tail wagging.

Jonesy cooked up breakfast, while serving the animals their meals. Zeke was the last one to wake up, walking over groggily and sitting down at the island counter. He patted Jeffrey, the alien nuzzling against him in greeting, before lying his head on the counter.

“Go ahead and go back to bed, Zeke. I’ll take care of everything,” Jonesy assured him, serving Jeffrey a stack of pancakes that reached halfway up to the ceiling.

“Can’t go back to bed. Gotta get ready for work… a lot is going to happen at the club… mew…” Zeke murmured.

“I thought you guys were on vacation? You know, after Hostile Robot Attack #500?”

“…oh yeah…”

The angel chuckled, sliding him a bowl of cereal. “Well, if you insist on staying awake, get something to eat. We can take a walk.”

“Okay,”

*SPLOT!*

Zeke’s face fell into his bowl of cereal, and he proceeded to snore into his Cheerios. Jonesy sighed, lifting him up and cleaning off his face with a towel, before carrying the teen to his room. He looked over, finding Jeffrey had finished his pancakes and was eating Zeke’s cereal.

…

It was late afternoon by the time Zeke woke up. He walked out, seeing Jonesy standing on the balcony overlooking the city; a cool wind blew, giving relief to the hot summer day. The angel looked at him and smiled. “Well, look who finally woke up for real. How are you feeling, bud?”

“Okay now that I got my full eight hours,” The immortal teen replied, stretching.

“Heh, try twelve. It’s 5 o’clock in the afternoon,”

“Geez… I really did crash, didn’t I?” Zeke looked around. “Where’s Jeffrey?”

“He was getting restless, so I took him to Old Russia in the _Destiny_ universe. I figured I’d let him wear himself out chasing dregs and vandals for a couple of hours, then bring him home.”

“How long has he been there?”

“Only twenty minutes. Are you worried about him?”

Zeke shrugged. “Nah, he has my genes so he’s impossible to kill. He’s also very resourceful… and I got him a cellphone, so he’ll call if he needs anything.”

Jonesy gave him a look.

“…Okay, yes, I’m worried. I’m the parent of a one-year-old alien! He’s going to be turning two in October, and already he’s out on his own. *sigh* They grow up too fast…”

Despite it was meant to be a joke, the angel could sense sincere depression in his friend’s tone. It was true that Jeffrey was growing up fast, and that meant that in time Zeke’s ‘child’ would soon be older than he was… perhaps even pass away. Granted, it was unclear exactly how long Xenomorphs lived, but if there was a chance that Jeffrey was not ageless and the immortal would have to one day say the ‘final goodbye’…

“You think Jeffrey is ageless, too?” Jonesy inquired. “I mean, if he has your genes, plus was born in the tooniverse, there’s a chance he might stop growing at a certain point.”

“I never thought of that… Huh.” Zeke replied, cocking his head.

The angel then gave him a nudge. “Ah well. C’mon, lets go somewhere real quick.”

“What? Um, okay…”

Jonesy grabbed Zeke’s hand, and then teleported them to a field. It was full of flowers, trees all around them. They walked up a hill, sitting down in the shade of a tree, and the angel pointed to the west. The teen stared in awe, seeing the sun setting in the distance; with no buildings or people around, and as tall the hill was, he could see the sky stretch on forever, all the colors that blended into each other as the bright yellow sphere descended into the horizon.

“It’s so beautiful…” Zeke whispered. He looked at his friend. “When did you find this spot?”

“I used to come here often, when I was alive.” Jonesy answered, resting one arm on his knee. “I don’t remember how I died, exactly, but I do remember some parts of my life. I would come out here just to think, and meditate on good things. It’s a good place to concentrate on wholesome thoughts, as it’s so peaceful here.”

“You remember being alive?” The immortal looked at him curiously. “How much?”

“Only bits and pieces. It’s like how adults try to remember their entire childhood--- you can only recall a few things. I don’t recall being drawn with a family or group of friends… but I remember _who_ drew me, but do not recall my purpose. But that does not matter, because I have found my purpose at your side.”

Zeke blushed. “Aw, Jonesy…”

Jonesy chuckled, patting his head. “No homo, bud.” He looked back at the sunset. “It’s weird… everyone feels like they’re supposed to have some ‘big, important purpose’ for living, like they want to change the world or something. Even toons feel their purpose is to entertain, to be loved as heroes or despised as villains, but even they feel they should be doing something more. But… maybe they’re overthinking it. I don’t think you have to feel like you have to become someone to feel like you have a purpose. Everyone has a purpose from the moment they’re born, regardless of how long they live--- they leave an impact on someone somehow, and it’s moments like that that last forever, even if they are forgotten.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

The angel put an arm around him. “Heh, I guess I’m just rambling, but… I just want you to remember how special you are. You were put in this world for a reason, and you leave an impact on others with every passing year.” He reached into his pocket just then, pulling out a small box. “And with every year you’re alive… well, that’s an accomplishment for everyone.”

He handed Zeke the box. Opening it, there was a small oval-shaped clear stone with an angel holding a small child inside. There was an inscription on the underside of the lid:

_‘Every life is a gift,’_

_Happy birthday, Ezekiel_

The teen’s eyes widened. He had forgotten it was his birthday today! Since he could not age, after some time it just felt like a date on the calendar; as for his sister, he would send her a gift and that was it, as she grew to hate her birthday by the time she turned 21. But he had started treating it like just another day of the year…

This was the first time in a while that he was reminded that he had been born… that he was alive. In fact, Jonesy was the only one who reminded him that he had a heartbeat, had breath to breathe, and made him feel this way. Despite all the trouble the teen would get into, how he would harm himself out of depression, or just got crazy… Jonesy never gave up on him. He was there when Zeke was in a situation worse than death, would comfort him when the immortal could not take it anymore, always called him out when the teen did something stupid but never condemned him, gave him advice when his friend was in a dilemma, and was always patient, kind, and caring.

It was the kind of feeling that couples looked for in a romantic relationship… but this was not romance. This was a friendship that went above and beyond any other. A bond that felt like it could--- and would--- last longer than eternity itself.

Tears welled up in Zeke’s eyes, and he hugged Jonesy tight. “Thank you, Jonesy…”

The angel hugged him back, patting his head. “Anytime, Ezekiel.”

The teen looked up at him. “Wait… w-what about your birthday? You never told me when it was!”

Jonesy shrugged. “That’s another thing I can’t remember. But it’s okay,”

Zeke shook his head. “No it’s not… I know you’re just an angel, but you still deserve a celebration of your own!” he rubbed his chin. “How about… August 9th?”

“Why August 9th?”

“It’s my sister’s boyfriend’s birthday. You kind of remind me of him sometimes--- you’re smart, caring, funny, and very loyal.” He smiled warmly. “Plus, the two of them act more like best friends than a couple, so it would kind of mirror our friendship… What do you think?”

Jonesy shrugged, giving a grin. “Okay. …But no surprise parties!”

“Ha ha, you sound like my sister.”

The sun sank below the horizon, the sky littered with stars. Jonesy looked at his watch. “We’d better pick up Jeffrey,”

“I’m sure he’s ready to come home. Tonight is taco night!” Zeke opened a portal, and they stepped through to pick up the alien ‘child’, and return back to their home.


	6. The End

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "...There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." ~Proverbs 18:24


End file.
